


and so love is

by blithe_bee



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Domestic, Emotional, Established Relationship, Everyone Needs A Hug, Falling Out of Love, Feelings, Heartwarming, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Sad, a look at how love changes over time, idol!hyuck, love's a rather complicated thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:55:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23532670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blithe_bee/pseuds/blithe_bee
Summary: They've fallen in a monotony of sorts; their recent encounters mainly consist of early morning coffee together and a lazy arm slung around the other before falling asleep.Donghyuck can feel something's shifted between them. Something he can't quite place, but which seems to have permeated through every aspect of their relationship. Still, no matter how hard he struggles to understand what's going on between him and Mark, he simply can't find the answer.Or... can he?(in which hyuck discovers feelings aren't as simple as he thought they'd be.)
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Comments: 20
Kudos: 84





	1. i.

**Author's Note:**

> i've had this story in my drafts for a long time, and only recently was I able to get myself in the proper state of mind to write it. it's finished now, so you can expect regular updates! the title was inspired by 'love alone' by iu (or rather, its korean name, which is closer in meaning to this title), and it also helped much of the writing process. give it a listen if you want! ^^
> 
> i really hope everyone's staying safe during this time, taking the necessary precautions! please take care of yourselves ♥️

They've fallen in a monotony of sorts; their recent encounters mainly consist of early morning coffee together and a lazy arm slung around the other before falling asleep. 

Donghyuck is infinitely busy, which is to be expected, as being an idol does, indeed, come with a hefty amount of benefits, but also numerous cancelled dates, invasions of privacy, and long hours spent hidden away from the world in crunched studios. Mark, too, has plenty to worry about; clients come in all shapes and sizes, with all sorts of (often unrealistic and unreasonable) demands and expectations, and, despite everything, such as his own comfort or his loved ones, he has to deliver. 

Donghyuck was aware of the sacrifices that came with the idol life, and came to terms with it. Mark also knew what came with interior design (sleepless nights, rushes of inspiration, moody clients, unlikely interactions), and decided it was worth it. 

So they never complain. There are pros and cons to everything, after all, and they've accepted this fact. 

But, sometimes, one doesn't need to complain to know something isn't going well.

\--- 

"Mark?" Donghyuck says quietly as he gets in bed, resting a hand on his arm. Mark doesn't react; his breath remains stable, even, his face betrays no emotion, and his body doesn't move more than just an inch into Donghyuck's touch. He's sleeping, soundly, deeply, by the looks of it. Donghyuck's lips merely form a desolate smile, and his eyes close in resignation. He doesn't need to look at the clock on the bedside counter to know it's late — it had been late when he left practice, too, after he'd decided that staying behind and practicing the choreography one more time (two, three, four, until he lost track of time and somehow reached fifteen) was a good idea. 1:40 a.m. 

Now it has to be close to 2:30; add the time it took to get changed (no shower, he was already late), reach his car, drive home, unlock and lock the apartment door, put on some pajamas, and you get almost an entire hour - 50 minutes.

Donghyuck feels his biggest enemy is time, hours, minutes, seconds, which come and pass faster than lighting. He pulls the covers over himself and sinks into the softness of the bed, but the warmth radiating from Mark's side and the coldness of his own make him even more uneasy, even more aware of the situation. 

It dawns on Donghyuck that, although time isn't his friend, his biggest enemy is himself. 

\---

Saturday afternoon, and Donghyuck's pacing anxiously by the river bank, where he's been waiting for his boyfriend for the past half an hour. It's hot, too hot, and he wishes for clouds, so he'd have at least one less thing to worry about. But, yet again, God, or whatever mighty being is peering at him from above, does no more than listen to his request. Fulfilling it is another matter entirely. 

He can't help sighing and sprinting over to him the moment he sees him approaching their meeting place. 

"Mark!" he breathes, hugging him tightly, feeling his stress melt when Mark relaxes in his arms. It does him good to know he can still have that effect on him. "I thought you weren't coming anymore." 

"That's how I felt earlier today, too, so I guess we're even now, right?" he says, but although he's merely teasing, although his tone is a playful one, Donghyuck can't help but hear (or... imagine?) the hint of hurt in his voice. 

He grimaces, eyes lowering to the ground. Once beautiful, now withering, the flowers in his hands are more or less proof of the past few hours. They'd planned to meet in the morning, until Donghyuck found out he had another interview and had to rush to the other side of the city. The flowers he picked him lay forgotten on a table backstage, and before he could find another free moment to meet up, they withered. 

"Yeah, about that... I'm sorry." 

Mark smiles kindly. Takes the flowers from his hands. Sniffs. Chuckles heartily. "Don't be. I had to see my client too, which is why I'm late. God, you should hear what they wanted in their newborn's room! First..." 

He tells the story passionately, holds his hand as they walk, and he's beaming. Donghyuck loves these moments, when it's just the two of them, when the world can stop and give them some space, when Donghyuck can forget his guilt and tiredness and feel as he did years ago, back when they first met. He misses that: the less-success, the fewer interviews, the fewer well received comebacks. He worked incredibly hard back then, too (of course he did, how else would he have gotten here had he not?), but he could find time for himself and, obviously, Mark. 

But he'd be lying if he were to pretend he doesn't like where he is now. The fans, the support, the awards - NCT's thriving, but not only that: he's thriving, too. This is what he was born to do. His friends know, his company knows, his parents, fans, members... Mark, too. If only he'd let himself accept it, he would know as well. But he doesn't want to admit that he wouldn't exchange the fame for anything. He doesn't want to, doesn't need to, doesn't like to, so, in turn, he chooses not to think about it. 

He's better off listening to Mark talk, laughing with him, being what he's supposed to be... a supportive, loving boyfriend, not a time-unaware celebrity. These are the good moments... not that the screaming crowds of fans aren't, too. 

"Their idea of a nursery seems almost impossible to recreate," Mark tells him. 

Donghyuck has no doubt he'll get it done. Just like he's meant for stardom, Mark is meant for interior design; nothing a client might ask of him could actually be called impossible, not when it's him doing the job. But one of Mark's words rings in his head much more than he could have imagined it would. Nursery, he said, like it meant nothing. Not to them, at least. 

But that's precisely the problem. The fact that the word 'nursery' doesn't mean anything to them, and that Donghyuck is fairly sure it never will. 

Donghyuck bitterly realises that such a future together is the last thing either of them can think about, and it has nothing to do with them still being young. 


	2. ii.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some questions are harder to answer than others, and donghyuck's faced with one of the hardest.

"Hyuck... we'll be okay, right?" Mark murmurs one night, as they cling to each other in silence. 

Never has Donghyuck felt more apprehensive. 

Undoubtedly, the required answer is "Yes", but the word doesn't leave his mouth at first. He runs a hand through Mark's hair comfortingly, nuzzles his head in his back. His hold on Mark is strong, unlike he feels, and as he inhales his scent (sweet but deep, with musky undertones), he's at home, at peace, content, shamelessly happy just to lie next to him. 

So it stands that he loves him, that much is known. But then, why does he sense this alienation between them, like they're different people, yet both of them unchanged? It isn't that they don't love each other anymore, yet... 

In recent days, there's moments when Donghyuck can look at Mark purely for what once was. For example, for the uncountable times Mark has been by his side, through thick and thin, unwavering, steadfast. Despite being so alike, both as untamable as fire, both searching for adventure, for excitement, only in different ways, Mark seldom reminds Donghyuck of himself. Different enough to each bring something fresh to the relationship, to have different perspectives and ideas and experiences, Donghyuck sees in their relationship what he's never seen in himself: stability. Durability. As easy-going and ambitious as they are, they can understand and support each other. 

Even so, a part of himself has somehow always known that their ambition would be their undoing. Or is it their dedication? Hard work? Dreams? He isn't sure. 

However, there are days when he can't bear the sight of him, precisely because of all the memories they've amassed over the years. Like, that time, half a decade ago, when on a trip to Busan, they ran across this dilapidated building with its paint peeling right off of it, likely older than both of them combined. Inside, they discovered the snuggest antique shop, filled with timeless treasures of all kinds (trinkets, garments, furniture... imaginable and unimaginable), owned by a woman in her seventies, who fairly resembled Donghyuck's grandmother. Armed with a wan, toothless smile, she showed them around the shop, yet never once mentioned prices; only each piece's quality, story, emotional value. 

Then appeared a lace embellished jewellery box, packed to the brim with jewellery as old as three centuries. But one stood out like a firefly in a pitch black forest: the necklace itself was charcoal black, but its tiny green-blue sapphire shone like corals under the sea, illuminated by the rays of sun making their way into the depths of water. It was breathtaking, and both Mark's and Donghyuck's eyes landed on it simultaneously. 

"Ah, an old necklace, salvaged from a wreckage near Jeju Island... Do you boys like it?" 

They both nodded, but averted their gazes. They were short on money as it was. The price of a vintage necklace, likely bearing a genuine gemstone... they couldn't have bought it even if they'd wished to. 

The old woman hummed, and before they could catch on to what she was doing, she'd produced a small chiffon bag and slipped the necklace inside, cinching it with a drawstring, then placed it in Mark's hands. 

"No, wait, we don't have any-" 

"A gift," she said, smile radiant yet tired, as though she'd smiled too much throughout her life. She hushed their complaints, then ushered them outside, though not before she'd also made sure they'd taken two pears "from her daughter's garden" and wished them all the good fortune Busan had to offer. 

"Thank you... So much!" they'd said, and watched her as she waddled back inside. 

"Well, this is crazy, but it's ours now, so-" Mark began, but Donghyuck snatched the bag and swiftly stepped behind him. Before long, he was putting the necklace around his neck. 

" _Yours_ ," he rephrased, pressed a hand to Mark's chest where the necklace now rested. His lips curled to one side, a crooked, satisfied grin. "You remember I was born in Jeju, right? This is like a little piece of me to carry around with you." 

Mark stared back at him, and his features slowly eased into a smile. "You're already always with me, Hyuck," he said, expression so soft and personal, the one nobody else but Donghyuck got to experience. Donghyuck might have kissed him, but with his hand on his chest, their eyes locked, it was just as special as a kiss ever could be. 

Mark still wears the necklace. He doesn't have it now, as he takes it off before bedtime, but it's by his head, on the nightstand. Donghyuck's hand unconsciously finds its way to Mark's chest, like a mirror to the past, feels his heartbeat - one, two, three, he counts in his head, concentrated solely on that. 

"Hyuck...? Are you alright?" 

"Mhm," he mumbles. Nineteen, twenty. How calm a heartbeat can be... How calming. Yet how telling of one's feelings and thoughts. Mark's okay. He isn't worried. He isn't on edge, or awkward, or unwilling to be there. This little safe space of theirs, that seems to take the worries away. Thirty four, thirty five... 

"Hyuck," Mark says again, like a question, shifting in Donghyuck's arms to face him. He looks a bit deflated, but still so earnest, so ready to check Donghyuck's well being, disregarding his own feelings. 

Oh, Mark asked him something, something that scared him, and it must seem like he's avoided it on purpose. 

If he wasn't still scared, perhaps he'd admit that that's exactly what he did. 

"It'll be okay," he says. He leans in and pecks Mark's nose, the way the older likes. Even in the dark, he notices the slight flush of his cheeks. 

"It will," Mark whispers, but his tone is relieved. 

"It will," Donghyuck repeats. "Were you worried, silly?" A raw, stinging sensation eddies at the back of his throat - the knowledge he's feigning nonchalance. That he's dissimulating. He pushes the thought aside, convincing himself it's to soothe Mark's dread, not his own. 

"Well, not any more." 

Donghyuck lets out a puff of air, as if endeared. Puts on a smile. Pulls Mark closer, so his head is on Donghyuck's chest, and they drift off to sleep that way. 

Somewhere in the back of Donghyuck's mind, he's vaguely aware he didn't actually answer Mark's question. Mark had wondered about "we"... Donghyuck only said "it". But he's more concerned with his own heartbeat, knowing he'll never find out how it must sound to Mark. Calm... or anything but?


	3. iii.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a day together has hyuck (trying to?) rediscover the forgotten joys of his and mark's relationship.

"Let's go to Seoul Forest." 

Mark's curious eyes shoot from his book to meet Donghyuck's. "Seoul Forest?" 

"Yeah. I'm sick of the crowds of the city. Let's go somewhere quiet, peaceful, more... earthy," he says. Mark seems to want to inquire further, unsure of his sudden proposition, but he doesn't. He never does press for more details than Donghyuck is willing to give; he trusts him and his motives inwardly. Donghyuck's grateful. 

Before long, they find themselves surrounded by the greenery in Seoul Forest, one of the biggest and most impressive parks in the city. This time of the year, red flowers kiss its open fields, and violet ones peak up from beside tiny mushrooms in the shade of the trees. Hard as he may try, it's hard to ignore the history of the open space they're in: Seoul Forest isn't merely a sight to behold, it's a story of how Seoul has become Seoul. 

"You like it here, Hyuck," he hears Mark say, lost as he is in the beauty of the park. 

He nods absentmindedly. "I love it. Don't you? It's something else. The streets buzz with the excitement of the city, the words of its people. The buildings aim for the sky. But this park does neither. Though more or less crowded, it always feels... free. Almost empty. The trees don't want to touch the clouds, they're content to observe us from a reasonable height. Don't you find it far more special than the rest of the city?" 

"I do." Mark's hand trails down from where it was resting on his arm to his hand, squeezing it affectionately, and Donghyuck returns the gesture without as much as thinking. 

"It's, um..." he trails off, the shadow of a blush touching his cheeks. "It's even better being here with you." 

Mark is very good-natured. Donghyuck loves him, yes, but one doesn't need to to agree his smile is warm, genuine, a mirror to his heart and soul. He exudes self assurance and professionalism, but his kindness shines through his every action, his every word. Yet, with the people he loves, he comes alive, all playfulness and giggles. 

More precisely, he comes alive when teasing Donghyuck.

"Wow, Hyuck? Dare I believe that pink tint on your cheeks is a blush? It can't be, right?" he says, voice bright and coloured with satire. 

Donghyuck's teeth nibble at his lower lip, mostly because he finds him amusing, rather than being embarrassed. "It's just the heat, Mark." 

"Is it? I think today's rather chilly, myself." 

He's grinning, until Donghyuck's eyes meet his, twisted in mischief and menace. He gives him a head start, waiting until he reaches the treeline, before darting after him, dodging tree after tree, in full pursuit. Mark's laugh is adorable, but just the slightest bit too high pitched; somehow, it suits him just fine.

"I'm joking, dork! You can blush all you like!" he says, an attempt to escape his fate. He hates tickles - his body can't stand them for more than a few terrible, tedious moments. Donghyuck's well aware, and has used it to his advantage a few times before. 

Though he might be fast, Donghyuck's faster. He soon catches up to him, but instead of tickling him, he tackles him, and they roll on the ground until Donghyuck manages to stop them, planting one knee firmly in the ground. 

"I can't believe you," Mark says, gasping for air, looking up at Donghyuck, who's now on top of him, through his messy fringe, eyes wild and expression so silly - an expression of exaggerated shock. How very Mark of him. 

"Thing is, I bet you can," Donghyuck laughs, falling beside him on the ground. The sunlight filters through the trees above, hitting him right in the eyes. Despite having just been chased, Mark lifts a hand to block the sun and allow his enemy to actually open his eyes. The first thing Donghyuck sees as he does is Mark's face, beaming. Oh, Mark. You're too pure for this world. 

"One of these days someone's gonna con you out of all your money, Markles," he jokes. 

"Because I'm 'too good'?" 

"I was thinking more like pure, but yes, good too. You're totally good," he says, but it doesn't sound like an insult. How could it? 

"Eh, my boyfriend's a member of a famous group, we'll make it through," Mark says, and Donghyuck scoffs. 

"As if I'm gonna let you use my money just because you're foolish enough to get conned!" 

Mark's face actually falls. "You won't help your financially struggling boyfriend?" 

"Oh," Donghyuck says, suddenly worried he's hurt Mark's feelings, "Mark, come on, of course I will." 

Mark's already standing up as he hears this, stretching his hand out for the younger to take and smiling again.

"Let's get ice cream, then." 

As they walk, Donghyuck laughs, feeling weightless. It's a good feeling, almost like touching the clouds. Mark's grip on his hand makes him ponder on the fact that if clouds were a person, they'd be Mark, skin as soft as satin, laughter a bubbling spring, a placid presence that's there without question. He finds it's the perfect comparison - Mark's small gestures of kindness are the most needed shade clouds can offer, his encouragements the raindrops to revive the wilted fields, and on the sunny days when he's not there, Donghyuck knows he'll return to him. 

They buy chocolate and matcha ice cream, and when Donghyuck finishes his at lightning speed, he wrestles Mark until he succeeds in taking a bite off of his.

"Hyuck," Mark grumbles. He softens when Donghyuck shrugs with exaggerated innocence. "We can buy you another, you know."

"You know this is mostly about the satisfaction of stealing it from you, Mark."

Mark shakes his head in mild disbelief, but eventually relinquishes the last quarter of his ice cream, like he's always done.

They're a bit too loud, both of them, holding onto each other and telling random stories, and perhaps someone will share photos of them on the internet, but for now it's just the two of them, their steps synchronising and their laughter becoming one. 

When they return home, hours later than they should, Mark's unfinished sketches and Donghyuck's unedited dance cover, the one he was supposed to dedicate to his fans for their forth anniversary, remain forgotten. Donghyuck kisses Mark like he used to, his heart beating out of his chest, Mark's hands resting so gently yet so warm on his waist, until they're both too breathless to even kiss any more, falling in each other's arms instead. 

Yet, even now, when everything's supposedly perfect, no different than before, Donghyuck wonders... He wonders about a lot of things. Not least of all if this isn't simply too good to be true. 


	4. iv.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which hyuck hopes talking to someone about his dilemma might provide some clarity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i should've said this at the beginning, but the nct hyuck's in in this fic is basically just made up of all members of nct 127, minus mark, and they debuted when hyuck was like 18. it's not super important, but just so things are clearer ^^

"You're impulsive. Impatient." 

When he meets Taeyong, he plucks up whatever courage he has and asks him to talk. Taeyong doesn't need him to mention it's not about concert dates or concerns to relay to their manager; he sees the restlessness in his eyes, and that's enough. Donghyuck has never been as close to him as he is to Taeil, maybe even some of the others, but Taeyong cares too much about the team he leads not to notice their struggles. 

It's the first time Donghyuck opens up to him, or to anyone, entirely. He figured he could get through it on his own, and before that, for a time, he had even failed to accept there was anything to discuss, anything wrong. But the kindness and the earnestness with which his leader asked him "Are you well, Donghyuck-ah?" and offered to be there to listen made Donghyuck realise just how much he had to let out. 

He didn't, however, expect Taeyong to be so blunt. 

"Wait... what? Impatient?" Donghyuck echoes. 

"Yes, impatient. Impatient and impulsive." 

The younger has a look of disdain plastered to his face, but Taeyong touches his knee in a reassuring manner, expression soft. "You didn't come to me to hear convenient lies. You need the truth." 

There's a really good reason Taeyong is the leader, the younger understands. 

"Okay, so what's that got to do with anything?" 

"Everything, really. When was the last time you took a moment to observe what you really wanted in and from life?" 

The older is right about that much. For years now he's just... lived day by day, going wherever life has taken him. 

"Thought so," Taeyong continues, not sounding judgmental or harsh, not lecturing. "I'm not saying you don't care for Mark.... goodness knows, all of this building is in on how much he means to you. But have you thought about your future with him?" 

Not at all, Donghyuck thinks guiltily. 

"Just... a bit," he says. 

"And?" 

He's thought about his own future, some. A relatively constant life, made so by being part of a famous company and a successful group. That's the gist of it, really, since Donghyuck knows better than anyone how fragile fame is, how easily it could dissipate if he or one of his members were to take a wrong step, or even if their company decided they were no longer worth the time. So uncertain, all of it, but it's a life he's gotten used to, a life that pushes him to his limits, a life that he's... dreamt of. But if he can't plan his own future, how can he plan anything with Mark? 

"I... don't know," he starts, voice just a little bit too high and a little too lost. "Hyung, I hate how this sounds, but I don't know. I love him, but... I can't think of anything. That's... that's bad, isn't it? I'm screwing up?" 

Taeyong shifts closer, and somehow it calms Donghyuck's rapid heartbeat. "No, no, Donghyuck-ah, it's not bad. You're not a bad person for not giving it any thought. Your love for Mark is valid and true and right, but... you're having doubts, aren't you?" 

Even his nod manages to be uncertain. 

"I love him... but then again, I've loved him for so long, I don't know how it feels not to. But it doesn't seem like we're... us, anymore? It's us, but not us, if that makes sense. It must be the distance, right? We don't spend that much time together anymore... last time we did was..." 

In Seoul Forest. Where they laughed and ran around, enjoyed nature and one other. Where Donghyuck smiled simply because Mark was, a clear indicator of his love for him. Or... was it? Didn't he do the same with Taeil, or his mother? 

"It was a few months ago," he admits, ashamed. 

Taeyong watches him with a lone emotion deep in his eyes, an emotion one might call pity. Perhaps he's right to pity him. Donghyuck might pity himself, if he could. 

"We've been very busy these past years, Donghyuck. It's what this life entails. It's just that relationships sometimes... crumble under that pressure, and it's not your fault, or the other person's. It's just life." 

Donghyuck sighs. "I don't like life very much." 

"Maybe not," Taeyong says, still so calm, the definition of understanding and patience, and Donghyuck can only pay attention, "But it gave you Mark, didn't it? Isn't it better than if it hadn't given him to you at all? Don't answer. But think on it. And think about what you really want, beyond this awkwardness to go away. What do you want from Mark? What do you want to figure out? Where is this going, really?" 

"So it's all on me? No advice?" 

For some reason, he thought he'd get some answers. The fact that he feels just as lost as usual hurts more than it should. Taeyong pats his arm softly. 

"They're your feelings, Hyuck. But I'll be here once you've worked them out, too." 

"But will I? Figure them out?"

"I trust you will. You're stronger than you give yourself credit for."

Falling in Taeyong's arms in a warm embrace is the only comfort he has, because Taeyong's steady and warm and quiet and if he feels the few tears that fall on his shoulder or hears the little sniffle Donghyuck lets out, he doesn't say anything. He just holds him there for a long time, in the dead silence of the practice room, ignoring his other, more pressing matters. He's a leader but more than that, Donghyuck realises he's just good, simply good, and for a moment Donghyuck doesn't feel like a villain for being confused, for worrying, for feeling lost, for not understanding why things are the way they are or why he can't work out his feelings any more than he can control them. 

For a moment, Donghyuck is just sad, and finds that that's okay. 


	5. v.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> opening up to mark about his conflicting feelings is easier said than done.

"Here we go again, pretending everything's fine when it's not," Donghyuck mutters under his breath, voice rough with emotion. 

It's another late evening they're spending together, now that they've finished their own work. Or, as it feels to Donghyuck, merely in the presence of one another.

Mark looks at him with a frown and takes in his uneasy stance. "What... what do you want, Hyuck? Do you want us to fight?" His silence is plenty answer. "Unbelievable, you do. People usually try to avoid arguments, but no, you actually want us to argue." 

"It's not about arguing, but obviously something's not right. You feel it too, don't you? Instead of talking it through, we're going on about our lives, smiling and hugging and ignoring it. It's like... a typhoon banging at your door, but you think it's more important to clean up, make sure it's tidy before inviting it in," Donghyuck says. The muscles in his face are tight, his fists clenched at his sides, and his eyes are pinned to the floor. 

Silence. The pendulum in the clock his grandparents gifted them swings back and forth, for a few moments the only sound in the room, but time seems to have stopped.

"Typhoons," Mark begins, half-heartedly, "don't knock on anyone's door. They just burst in." 

Donghyuck eyes him suspiciously as he gets up and stalks towards him.

"Typhoons burst in. Problems burst in too. Nothing's burst in. We're fine, Hyuck. Just busy. We're both very busy, and it's hard, but we're fine, we're still us. Less time spent together won't change that. Okay?" 

The warmth of his hand is like stepping through morning dew, taking in the scent of a rose, good news in times of sorrow; Donghyuck is reminded of his mother's touch whenever Mark holds him, as though he's fragile, or precious, or both. The effect is obvious - he takes a deep breath and lets his head fall back. 

"Mark," he whispers. Hearing how completely hopeless and weak his own voice sounds surprises him, it hurts, and he needs another moment to adjust. "I'm just... scared. I'm scared." 

"Of what?" 

Of what indeed? He doesn't want to lose him, not when he means so much to him. Doesn't want things to change. Doesn't want six years of his life to tumble down at the end, for life to screw him over. Doesn't want to regret this. Doesn't want to be having this conversation, doesn't know _how_ to have this conversation. There's so many things he's afraid of, and fear is far from the only emotion he's struggling with, so what is he supposed to tell Mark? Why does he never know what to tell him? 

He settles for the easy answer, the one that doesn't help, "Everything." 

Mark squeezes his forearms, shaking him slightly until Donghyuck's looking at him. The older smiles, but Donghyuck sees through it; it's strained, just as jaded, and uncertain. He doesn't have all the answers. He's only trying to ease Donghyuck's worries. 

"You, Hyuck? You're not afraid of anything," Mark says. 

No, no, don't do this. Don't change the subject. Don't lighten the mood. 

"Mark," he pleads again, everything he means evident from his tone, his eyes. 

Mark sighs and lets go. It comes across as somewhat aggressive, but Donghyuck knows he's simply drained.

"I don't know what to say, Hyuck. I think we're overthinking it, making it out to be bigger than it is. Feelings can be very spontaneous, but they always get better after a while. That's just how it is," Mark says, tone neutral, expression impassive. Even so, he's avoiding Donghyuck's eyes.

Donghyuck has never heard a more callous response from Mark.

For the first time in recent memory, frustration, impatience, perhaps downright anger simmer inside Donghyuck, threatening to boil over. He wants to scream at Mark, but can't find his voice. He should swallow his pride and his wounded feelings, let things cool down before he takes anything further. Clearly neither of them know how to manoeuvre this situation, and it'll only hurt them more in the long run if they lash out in anger. Donghyuck meant it; he doesn't want to argue, he just wants to finally grasp everything.

Not that it doesn't hurt already.

"Yeah," Donghyuck says, stepping back, crossing his arms over his chest. He looks away, takes a shaky breath. "Yeah."

His reaction couldn't seem natural even to the average person, but since this is Mark, he immediately closes the distance between them again. Where he touches Donghyuck it feels like a burn, and Donghyuck almost swats his hand away, but can't get himself to. Not when Mark's already retraced his words in his mind, and the painful realisation in his expression shows he's just as frustrated with himself.

"I didn't mean-" he begins, remorseful, but Donghyuck consciously pushes himself and takes him in his arms before he finishes.

"It's okay. Let's just let it go," he whispers, because he's tired; this entire exchange has worn him out. Suddenly he wants to sink into a bed, pull the covers over himself and forget everything, leave it all behind.

"I'm sorry," Mark says.

"I know. It's okay."

He tries to make himself believe it, even as Mark's embrace still feels a bit out of place, a bit too itchy against him, like Donghyuck's not entirely there with it. His hands clutch to Mark's jumper; they haven't even scratched the surface, this isn't going anywhere, but he can't take this any further. He never can, which is perhaps more exhausting than the situation itself.

"Why don't we sleep it off?" Donghyuck says. Whether or not he'll manage it, at least they'll have rested. He'll have to settle for that.

"Alright, Hyuck. Let's."

They're running around in circles, pushing and pulling, never properly touching upon the things that matter. When one of them is ready, or tries to be ready, forces himself to be for their sake, the other isn't, and then they exchange roles, and nothing ever comes out of it. They're stuck somewhere in between, not quite right, but not fully wrong either. It's a cycle that won't leave them be.

But how can he blame Mark, when he's ultimately doing the same thing?

Wouldn't _he_ also much rather ignore it?


	6. vi.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where will a night walk take hyuck?

He feels the only way to breathe for one moment is to be outside. 

It's midnight, after practice hours. The birds have ceased their joyful chirping, the streets have emptied, the only remaining presence being the occasional stray cat growling from famine, and the sound of the wind, coursing through the trees. For once, Donghyuck is content with the near-silence. It allows him to think, sort his thoughts. 

His many, many thoughts. 

It's as if his head is so brimful, he could open a fifty thousand word book, pick any page, any sentence, and any chosen word would be a part of his thoughts. Desperately, he runs his hands though his now red hair, as if in an attempt to understand everything. 

It's rained all day. He steps into a puddle, curses. It reminds him of _him_ again. Could it even cross Mark's mind that he's out here, all alone, in the middle of the night, devoid of the safety of a bodyguard?

He resents how they never fight. Even racking his brains for it, he can't remember a moment Mark's rebuked him. Not for coming home late, forgetting, cancelling dates, even being distant. He won't reproach him tonight, either. He might give him a slight shake of the head, tell him he ought to be more careful, that he's a well-known idol and thus needs to think about such things and their possible consequences, but he won't sound frustrated, won't lecture nor blame him. Funnily enough, a normal boyfriend would have been accused of cheating after all that's happened. 

But he no longer belongs in that category, does he? 

The smell of wet cement makes him happy in a childlike way; it's pure, not greedy, like he sometimes feels his love for the screaming crowd is. It's liberating too, almost like he's no longer bound by anything, whether the responsibilities of his work or the qualms of his love life, the imminent truth Taeyong told him he needed to puzzle out. He would skip, if something wasn't weighing on him so.

So he simply walks instead, slowly at first, gradually quickening his pace, overwhelmed by the lust for rediscovering the city he's since forgotten. It's the sort of need which entirely engulfs him, like a breath of cold wind in winter sends chills all over your body, and each turn he makes, he considers taking off his shoes and walking barefooted, really allowing the feel of the world to flood his soul. He's wary of stepping on something unpleasant, though - that wouldn't help his dancing at all, would it? 

Until he reaches Yeongdong bridge, and feels he has a bigger chance of drowning on it than underneath it, in the waters of Han river. Still, his brisk walk doesn't cease; it merely decreases its speed. Donghyuck lets himself be guided by... he isn't sure what. Either his subconscious, or the overpowering force of destiny. 

Whatever makes him step on that bridge, however, knows what it's doing. 


	7. vii.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> serendipity is a happy thing indeed, and hyuck thinks back on one of his most cherished memories, when he experienced it himself: meeting mark.

_\- 6 years ago -_

Yeongdong Bridge. 

A bridge like any other, really. There's nothing spectacular about it. In all honesty, it has to be one of the most unremarkable bridges in all of Seoul. 

That's the precise reason Donghyuck, music so loud in his earbuds it's spilling out of his ears and blending with the noise of the cars, hands buried in the pockets of his jeans, isn’t slowing his pace to look at the view; it isn’t a view he hasn't gotten used to, after all. Though he doesn't like his music overly loud, the cars aren’t giving him much of a choice. 

Just as he reaches the middle of the bridge, however, his eyes land on a young man, coming from the other side, likely around his age, though just a bit taller, looking perplexed and completely lost. He's biting his lower lip as the wind threatens to claim the map he's holding and, on top of that, he's struggling to keep his hair out of his eyes. Big, beautiful (and worried) eyes. It's then that Donghyuck suddenly realizes that he must be a foreigner. 

For a moment, he's torn between ignoring him and offering his help. 

But Donghyuck has manners, and his heart in the right place, so he pulls his earbuds off, stuffs them in his back pocket, moments before he's in front of the boy, smiling though he's tired, helping though he doesn't know how. 

“Hello!” he says, enunciating his words, hoping he'll understand, unsure if he even knows Korean. “Are you lost?” 

For a moment, the foreigner looks him up and down, surprisingly unsubtle, seemingly looking for some sort of confirmation of his intentions (a sign he isn't being sincere, a waver in his voice, a change in expression). If he finds it, he makes no indication of it. 

“What if I am?” he finally asks, in a tone that, although not impolite, isn't one Donghyuck expects from a stranger. 

“Good question. What if you are?” Donghyuck says, matching his attitude. Two can play at that game. 

His answer seems to satisfy the other, as his lips curls into a smile. He lowers the map. “Is Ttukseom Hangang Park nearby? Maps are not my specialty,” he admits. His Korean accent is surprisingly spot on, as is his remark about his orientation skills. 

“You’re headed in the right direction… If you were to look at your surroundings,” he motions towards the greenery of the park, which can clearly be seen from the bridge, “instead of the map, you’d be able to spot it.” 

The foreigner becomes flustered, a dark pink colouring his cheeks and spreading to his ears. “Oh.” 

“It’s a common mistake,” he clarifies. 

“But not for you, I’m guessing?” the other says, a hint of amusement in his voice. 

“For me too. There was this one time, when I was travelling, and I-” Donghyuck promptly realises how odd it is to share something like this with a stranger, so he stops. 

The foreigner blinks at him a few times, before breaking into a polite smile. “Well, I should get going. They say sunsets in Ttukseom Park are too beautiful to be true, so I should get there before nightfall, right?” 

With a quick bow, he walks past Donghyuck, leaving him there like nothing happened. And perhaps nothing has, but Donghyuck can't help but notice he hasn't said goodbye, or even thank you. Has he intentionally not mentioned their parting? He turns around, faced with the same road he's just walked, and a decision he's already made without even considering it. 

“Wait!” he calls after him, “What if you can’t get back? I mean... maps aren’t your specialty. I can’t let you wander aimlessly at night. I’ll come with.” 

It shouldn’t come as a surprise when the stranger agrees to his proposal. 

“So, basically, what you’re saying is that you’re even worse with maps than I am,” the wide eyed boy says, smug. Though he didn't reveal his own name when Donghyuck introduced himself (why, Donghyuck can't fathom, but attributes it to foreigners being foreigners), he's gotten out of his shell more over the hour they've spent exploring the park, same as Donghyuck, who, to his disbelief, no longer feels he's with a stranger. They're now sat together on a bench close to the river, as the sun begins to set. 

“That is not what I’m saying,” he protests, as the other throws more crumbles of Donghyuck's uneaten sandwich to the pigeons. Donghyuck isn't sure if he's more upset he's making do of his dinner, or happier still that it's being used for such noble purposes. 

“You got lost in the middle of London, Donghyuck. There’s like, signs indicating where you are every five feet. And about a million notable buildings that could help you direct yourself. Not to mention you were near the Thames.” 

Donghyuck shrugs. “I didn’t know much about London. You, though,” he says, “you got lost when you could literally see the park on the other side of the river.” 

“I was busy looking at my map, okay.” 

“You weren’t doing a very good job at that, either.” 

“You’re evil,” the boy mutters, feigning hurt. Grabbing the remaining crumbles, he sets them on the bench, not too far from him. An azure-winged magpie, after looking at them uncertainly, jumps on the bench and starts eating, while Donghyuck’s new acquaintance watches it with interest. 

"I'm guessing you like birds?" 

The boy's face lights up at the question, bordering on beaming, in a way so cute that it has Donghyuck avert his gaze. He prays he's imagining the heat creeping to his cheeks. 

"They might be my one of my favourite things in the world. Maybe it's because they seem so peaceful... and I treasure that. I strive for harmony in my art too," he answers dreamily, attention on the pink shades of the sky. 

"You're an artist?" 

The foreigner raises an eyebrow at him sceptically, but his grin is amused, if anything. "Why, Donghyuck, you ask a lot of questions." 

"I'm harmless, promise." 

"That's what they all say," he says, shoving his side slightly. "You could be a criminal, for all I know. You did approach me first, after all." 

Donghyuck feels his smile grow as he shakes his head, not offended by his empty accusations in the least. Clearly, the boy isn't taking them seriously, and they both burst into laughter a moment later. When they settle, the stranger seems to fall into deep thought. 

"Dunno if I should call myself an artist. What counts as one? Someone who practices their passion, the art, or someone who does it for a living?" he says, sounding genuinely curious. His inquisitive expression, coupled with the bright rays of sunshine hitting his face just right, forming an aura around his messy hair, makes Donghyuck consider his words like he's afraid he'll lose him. 

"Both? You're an artist no matter what, whether it's a hobby, a passion, or whatever else. Having it as your job is just... a plus. A big plus, I'd say," he supplies. 

Humming, the other places a hand on Donghyuck's shoulder in an approving gesture. It's their most notable contact so far.

"My major is interior design. I'm planning on making my passion my job, you see. Korea makes it seem even more exhilarating," he confesses. 

"I can relate to that." 

He beams again, even brighter this time, like he's just met a kindred soul, his eyes crinkling into the smile. 

"You're in college too, then? Following your dreams?" 

It was a... delicate subject.

"Maybe. I... I shouldn't really talk about it." 

Obviously to lighten the mood, his new acquaintance fakes a gasp. "Let me guess, you're with the mafia?" Donghyuck throws him a questioning look. "Drug dealer then? No? Well... how about a stripper?" 

Donghyuck laughs, suddenly at ease, not caring about the possible consequences of sharing his identity. Identity... that makes it sound more serious than it is. Complicated, maybe, serious... not really. 

"I'm a trainee at an entertainment company." 

Now it's the boy's turn to narrow his eyes at him. "Why is that something so shrouded in mystery?" 

"It's supposed to be. They don't really reveal the trainees until they're ready to debut, and that'll be at the earliest next year, from what they've been telling us. It's a big company, too, so... the secrecy adds to the excitement, I reckon. I ought not mention it to too many people. " 

The foreigner nods at him, turning his gaze back to the sunset and allowing silence to overwhelm them. The sun has almost completely set, but the hues are no less picturesque. Donghyuck appreciates how he's dropped the subject, how comfortable he makes him feel. Sharing is surprising enough, but not prying? That's stranger yet. 

He didn't even say something like 'I'll support you when you debut, then' in excitement, as many would, like he understands he'll still be Donghyuck when (if?) he debuts, not this untouchable person. It's a career, a passion, same as his interior design.

Donghyuck doesn't know the boy. He hasn't even divulged his name, but he addresses him as one would someone younger than themselves, though with much more familiarity. He doesn't know him, but he doesn't feel like that forms a barrier between them - quite the contrary. His sincere enthusiasm awakes similar feelings inside Donghyuck, and he can't help but watch him feeding birds (with his food, no less), his eyes filled with playfulness. He jokes and teases, but knows when to stop, loves arts and birds and sunsets. If he wanted to do this every day, Donghyuck would watch him still, time and time again, learning the ways of his glee bit by bit. 

Donghyuck hasn't know him for more than an hour, yet he's bringing him closer to earth, making him more aware of how beautiful nature, or just everything around, is; how Han river glimmers in pink and lilac, a moving mirror of the sky, how cheerily the birds sing, how… how beautiful he himself is. 

Beautiful beyond his looks, beautiful in how he makes Donghyuck feel. 

“Thank you, Donghyuck. It was really… courteous of you to make sure I wouldn’t get lost," the foreigner says, looking at him knowingly as they stand in front of his flat, minutes before midnight. 

“Anytime,” Donghyuck says, earnestly. "And... keep my embarrassing story to yourself, please?" 

"I won't speak of it to another living soul." His hand on his heart, he takes one step backwards, towards his flat, while Donghyuck matches his move and steps forward. The older grins - did he do it on purpose? 

"You're teasing me, aren't you?" Donghyuck complains. 

"I am? It's your fault, you're making me act like a teenager." Technically, he had to be around eighteen or nineteen at most, so not that different from a teenager, but Donghyuck chose not to comment on it. "It's making you blush though, so... it's cute." 

Donghyuck supposes what compels him to the stranger is his bluntness, his honesty, the way he wears his heart out on his sleeve. He, on the other hand, is being taught to hide his emotions, disguise them, act on positive thoughts instead of overpowering feelings, show a positive image for the public to latch onto. The contradiction between him and the requirements he has to put up with daily is as surprising as it is enticing. 

When Donghyuck doesn't reply, the other continues, "Honestly, thank you. I had fun. And starting today, I'll keep in mind to look at my surroundings as well as the map. _Learn something new every day_ is sort of my motto, anyway." 

"Live every day like it's your last," Donghyuck says. 

"Hm?" 

"That's mine."

Similar mottoes, yet different nevertheless. All of a sudden, it strikes him how seriously he's lived up to his motto that day. 

"A little clique..." the boy says, not unkindly, as he fiddles with the door's lock, "but mine is too. I can't say why, but yours seems to fit you well. You're the kind of person to enjoy every day as it comes?" 

"Isn't that what life's all about? And it's the reason we started talking today, no?"

"Wasn't that because you didn't want me to get lost?"

Donghyuck scoffs, but the both of them are smiling.

Not bothering to say goodnight, perhaps afraid of how final it sounds, Donghyuck turns around to leave, hands wrapped around himself in response to the cold of the night. 

"Mark." 

Donghyuck turns back around with a frown. "What?" 

"My name. I know, it can be a mouthful for you guys. Still, maybe it makes me stand out, you know, not using a Korean name." 

"You mean, aside from the whole difference in look?" Donghyuck says with a smile, which Mark reciprocates. 

"Aside from that," he echoes. "But you should go now. It's getting late. One would start thinking you don't have anything to do tomorrow morning." 

"At least I know where you live though, right?" 

Before the door shut behind him and the only thing that remains is the lingering smell of his cologne, Mark shoots him a spirited, small grin, utterly and indescribably his. 

Donghyuck takes that as plenty initiative to visit a few days later, and then a few days after that, until it becomes part of his daily routine. _Their_ daily routine. 


	8. viii.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> running away seems like the next logical step, or at the very least the only thing hyuck can get himself to do, but it turns out it's not the worst choice he could have made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my wifi was so bad these past few days, I tried to post this chapter a couple times and it failed every time yikes.. at least I had the dreamies' album to listen to in the meanwhile, when I tell you love again is literally the only song ever... anyway, it's working well again! I hope all of you are okay, please stay safe!! <3 enjoy the chapter!

It seems only fitting that he'd regret everything the moment he leaves the park. The night has gotten cold, the wind seeping through his clothes making him feel completely bare. You'd think darkness can't scare you once you reach a certain age... yet here he is. Afraid. Of the dark, but not only that. 

Donghyuck has the distinct feeling he's lived it all before. Supposedly he has; he's been on Yeongdong bridge before, has mulled over old meeting places, endless possibilities, big brown eyes and warm hands locked together. The way it started and the way it is. Yet never has he felt the clear difference in their realities more fervently than now, once he steps off the bridge and stares wistfully at the park before him. 

He cringes at the thought of change. Though most of his life has been a whirlwind of spontaneity, he strives for continuity in his personal, more intimate affairs. He's grown up with supportive parents — they're still so, regardless of where his career takes him. Siblings well versed in the art of teasing, but whom he trusts with his deepest, most personal secrets. Taeil, a friend few could ever hope to have. And... Mark, who is clearly the subject of change. Or rather, their relationship itself is. 

He doesn't go home that night, just walks as if adrift, waiting for the morning to come. 

When it does, he runs to the nearest bus station, asks for tickets for the first ride to be leaving Seoul, and scurries to the back of the bus. It's empty for the most part, given the hour and the destination: Jeongeup. He remembers that's close to Naejangsan, and figures it's as good a place as any to escape. 

The three hour bus ride takes him through some gorgeous parts of the country, made ever more impressive thanks to the shimmering light of the early autumn sun. He doesn't pay as much attention as he should, though — he's thinking about Mark. About... his dilemma. 

Mark and him have always... clicked. Even during their very first meeting, there was an instant spark, one Donghyuck remembers as vividly as if he was physically reliving it. Looking back, there has never been a moment when Donghyuck and Mark haven't been on the same wavelength — a palpable, strong bond. They've always understood each other, in a manner that doesn't require words. It's an unspoken feeling of belonging, of acceptance, all flaws and qualities, similarities and differences. But in a way, Donghyuck wonders if it wouldn't be so very simple for this understanding to slip into stagnation in the long run, if they make the wrong choices along the way. 

Why does it feel like that's exactly what's happened to them? When the past and the present differ so vastly, when he no longer sees the same Donghyuck and Mark as when they first met, when only memories keep him going, isn't that proof enough of it having already happened? 

From Jeongeup he takes another bus to Naejangsan, then makes his way through the mountains for hours, losing track of time. There's an abundance of visitors, although fewer than if he'd have arrived even half a month later, at a time when autumn would have really taken over, making the national park a very sought-after destination. Thus, some footpaths prove less crowded; some are almost entirely deserted, and he takes those. It's the type of peace he gets so little of lately, and if anyone actually recognises him, they're kind enough not to approach him - he can't look very approachable right now, anyway. 

Hours later, he's sitting on a secluded bench overlooking a waterfall, the foliage, which has started to change from green to red, so utterly magnificent that the groups of people buzzing around him barely catch his attention. 

Looking at his phone, he finds two missed calls from Mark. Just two. So predictable. He'd never want to bother him; he'll wait a few more hours until he truly worries and calls again. 

It makes everything resurface, all the pain, all the uncertainty, all coming in tidal waves. 

"Escaping from something?" 

He looks besides him and finds a young man, in what he assumes is his general age range, looking out into the open. He's calm, undisturbed, and for a moment Donghyuck doesn't know if it's his imagination playing tricks on him. 

But then the stranger glances at him. He doesn't look... empathetic by any means, doesn't even try to, but he feels safe. Donghyuck shouldn't share these sort of things with just anyone, especially considering his job, but he's overcome with so much he doesn't know how to handle, and there's something he's been meaning to say dangling on the tip of his tongue. 

This time, he doesn't hold it back. 

"I think I don't love my boyfriend any more," he blurts out. No, that's not it. "No, I do, I... I'm not in love with him any more." It's scary, admitting that out loud, when he hasn't even thought it before. But he doesn't cringe, doesn't take his words back; it's true. It's true and scary and he wishes he could have avoided it for longer but it's _true_. "How am I supposed to face him knowing that? How am I..." His voice cracks. "How am I supposed to tell him?" 

The boy nods, looking back into the distance. It's like he expected it. 

"It's a special relationship, then. A long one?" 

"Mhm," Donghyuck hums, voice small. He stares up at nothing in particular. "Six years. He was there for me when no one else was. When I started my career and everyone thought it was going to be a failure, he didn't. He didn't just tell me he didn't, he really believed it. Deep down. That's how he's always been. He's one of the best people I know, and it means more than I can say that he's a part of my life. He's... I know him better than anyone. _He_ knows me better than anyone." 

"And? You've tried to make it better?" 

He nods. "I've tried. I think. Nothing feels right any more, no matter what I do. I tried to ignore it, let it go. I tried to do what we used to, or try new things. But it hurts. Every day it... hurts. Looking at him, feeling like I'm doing something wrong. It's been... a year? More? I don't know when this started, but it just never got better." 

"It got worse instead?" 

"...Yeah." 

They're both silent for a while. Donghyuck lets sadness envelop him further, until he feels like he's slipped underwater, but his lungs don't fill with water; they're just devoid of air. 

"No one really talks about it, but people do fall out of love. Plenty couples overlook it, or turn to hostility, but it happens more than you'd think," the stranger says, apologetic. It almost sounds like a wound he's experienced himself. 

"Even when you loved each other more than anything? For so long?" 

The stranger shrugs, like it's self-explanatory, but his aura is one of sympathy. "Even then. Only that makes it more painful." 

Not long after, he stands up and gestures for Donghyuck to do the same. 

"Come on. The temple really helps clear your head. It'll take a while to reach it, but a walk will do you good. " 

Donghyuck goes, because the stranger already knows his most terrifying, worst kept secret. When he asks what his name is, the boy smiles enigmatically, but answers, "Renjun." 

They spend the rest of the day together, and Donghyuck learns Renjun's indeed experienced something similar, but he wasn't the one to fall out of love. 

"I didn't want to accept it at first. I reacted badly, caused deeper wounds than she did. We were both young, but she was more mature than me. I never talked to her, after. And now we're too far away to talk, anyway." 

Will that happen to him and Mark too? 

"I regret that. Not trying to understand her. It isn't something she had any control over, and she was kind in the way she told me. Hearing you now... I think I finally really understand what she was going through back then." 

Donghyuck's heart falls. "So I shouldn't tell him?" 

"From what you've told me of him, I think he'll catch on even if you don't," Renjun says, clapping him on the back. "Do you think _he's_ still in love with _you_?" 

He thinks back on all their time spent together recently; he can't be the only one. Not when they're both so out of rhythm — or, actually, so in rhythm, a rhythm they've perfected, but there's no more music accompanying it. 

"No... I don't know." 

"Either way, tell him. Take a few days to figure it all out, but tell him." 

"But how? When I know it'll hurt him?" Donghyuck asks, and his voice is so hollow it feels like it dissipates into the fresh mountain air. 

Renjun grips him by the shoulder, looks him straight in the eye, like a real friend, or just as someone who can perfectly understand what he's going through. "Aren't you both already hurting? Won't it build up resentment, or guilt, or anger in time? Spare the both of you more pain. You'll be grateful you did."

Donghyuck takes his advice. He rents a room at a small hotel in the area, and spends the next few days there, exploring Naejangsan during the daytime. Before his phone runs out of battery, he texts Mark not to worry, that he's fine, but he never asks the hotel staff for a charger. 

Renjun leaves, but his words remain with Donghyuck. Little by little, he understands. He doesn't blame himself. He accepts it for what it is. He knows he'll have to be honest with Mark, but more than that, be honest with himself. 

Little by little, he stops feeling like he’s out of step with his own life, like he’s an outsider. His chest is still constricted, but it doesn’t hurt as much as it did. He’s afraid of seeing Mark, but... things finally make sense again. At the very least, his feelings, or perhaps lack thereof, are no longer a mystery.

The scariest part, after admitting, or rather one of the many factors that have been holding him back from discerning the cause of his plight, has been the concern of what would follow it. Whether Mark would hate him and they'd lose all versions —lovers, friends, acquaintances— of each other forever. Whether he'd feel the past years of his life had been wasted, that he'd made the wrong choice by being with Mark.

Meaningless fears, all of them, when he comes to understand that what he's experiencing, in its way, is also a part of love. It can't be wrong, if only because of that. And... if it is, or Mark thinks it is... he can be content, knowing he has not acted on pure impulsiveness, has only put their individual well being above the well being of their relationship. Perhaps even the long-term happiness of them both.

Maybe he was right, all those months ago. 'It'll be okay', somehow.

...Right? 


	9. ix.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> as it so often does, the truth comes to light.

"Hyuck?" 

Mark finds him on the forth day. Donghyuck's resting against a fence, admiring the people coming in and out of an old gazebo positioned in the middle of the lake, a path of rocks leading to it. Mark's clearly a bit restless, but he doesn't run to him or act like he's been afraid he had lost him forever. He does smile, though, tiny and glad. 

"It was the GPS tracker we downloaded, wasn't it? I forgot about that," Donghyuck says, smiling also. They decided on having one of those apps, just in case of an emergency; they never used it, otherwise. Mark had likely come on a limb, going to the last place Donghyuck's phone had been seen before it had died. "For what it's worth, I _was_ planning on taking the bus back today." 

Mark shakes his head, like he does when he finds him endearing. "But you're okay?" he asks. 

"Yeah. I am now. Are you? I didn't want to worry you." 

"Is that why you never answered anyone's calls?" Mark says, moving closer to him and mirroring his position. 

"My phone died," Donghyuck says. It's not an excuse — it did die. It's just that he never tried to do anything about it, and that's clear enough to Mark already. 

"I had to tell your manager you were so sick you couldn't even look at your phone. Just, you know, in case he asks."

"And he believed you?"

"Only 'cause you've never done this before," Mark says, throwing him a mildly admonishing look, tempered with light amusement. Well, yes, Donghyuck has a habit of going to practice or to their schedules even when he's unwell. 

Donghyuck thanks him, though he's pretty sure he'll still get lectured when he returns to work. It's impossible for no one to have spotted and shared photos of him during this short escape. He's seen plenty staring or giggling as is. 

Their fingers find each other's instinctively. They hold hands, the tranquility of the scenery draping over them like a cotton blanket, for longer than they should, given everything, but it's such a simple comfort that they simply allow themselves to bask in it for a moment, two, three. Donghyuck thinks he can hear his heartbeat ringing in his ears as they do. Not invasive; just nervous, apprehensive. 

"Why did you come here, Hyuck?" Mark asks eventually. 

He sucks in a deep breath. "We had the best mountains in Jeju, you know? We never did go there for that hike we promised. But I love mountains. It's funny how life works, bringing me right to one. I think I needed this, before..." He stops, swallowing hard. 

"Before we talk." 

Donghyuck shifts his gaze towards Mark, and notices the acknowledgement in his expression. He's not resigned, not really, but it seems he's already aware of where this is going. It should have been obvious from how he didn't go in for a hug as soon as he saw him, how he kept a bit of distance between them until he was sure Donghyuck was okay with him being there. Donghyuck should have known. 

Their eyes meet, and Mark smiles sadly. "I knew this was going to happen, sooner or later. When you disappeared, I figured it would lead to this." 

"I don't think it led to it," Donghyuck says softly, "I think it just helped make things clearer." 

Mark hums in thought. "It was me, right? I was holding you back. Not letting you speak your mind sooner." 

"No, Mark, of course not," Donghyuck says and squeezes his hand. "I was ignoring it, for a long time. I thought it was a phase. And... I was afraid, of what it meant, of the consequences. I wasn't hiding from you, that wouldn't be fair. I only really acknowledged the night I left. It's the reason I did." 

"I think I realised a while ago, actually," Mark confesses. 

"That I..." This might just be the heaviest thing he's ever had to say, even if Mark doesn't look angry. Perhaps he's actually more relaxed than Donghyuck's seen him in a while, though his shoulders are hunched. When the words come out, they're almost a whisper, "I'm not in love with you any more?" 

"That _we're_ no longer in love." 

And there it is. The full extent of the truth. It's not heartbreaking, doesn't weigh on them or pull them into a senseless argument; it's just light, an admission that has long been on hold. If anything, Donghyuck feels a weight lift off his shoulders, and he squeezes Mark's hand again. This simple touch brings him stability, soothes his nerves.

It's not strange to him that they're doing even this together, with the same amount of affection. He's known and loved Mark for six years, and he's been loved and supported back without a moment's hesitation, without the slightest waver. Mark, Donghyuck's rock, his starlight, the person he trusts with his entire heart and soul. Mark. Just Mark. Donghyuck's Mark. 

One layer of their love's been lost, but the part that matters, the one that is unlikely to ever change, of mutual understanding and support, respect and compassion, makes this less harrowing. When Donghyuck was running from the truth, he failed to take this into consideration. He regarded things from an outsider's perspective, instead of one who knew the both of them well. 

Mark was Mark, Donghyuck was Donghyuck. They were still them, no matter what. 

"No, we aren't," Donghyuck says quietly, studying Mark's reaction. He knows this can't be easy for him — for either of them. But Mark's always had a heart more gentle than most, and Donghyuck worries. "Are you okay?" 

"Hm... You know, I think I am. It's... been a long time coming." That it has. Donghyuck can't tell if it should hurt more or less that Mark thinks the same. "I do have one question," Mark says, and his eyes glisten with unshed tears. "If I hadn't... If I'd been more open to talking about it, if I hadn't pretended things were fine, would that have changed anything? For you?" 

Donghyuck considers it for a second. "I don't know. I don't think so." Mark nods weakly. "If I'd been around more, less distracted, would things have been different for _you_?" 

"I don't know," Mark says. The ghost of a smile touches his lips at their identical answers. "I don't think so." 

"See? I don't think either of those were the cause of this. They just... came along the way." 

It feels like there's much left to say. How they reached this point, how they feel now that they have, how they'll proceed going forward. And maybe they'll discuss it, soon enough, but there's something else Donghyuck needs to let him know first, so he turns towards him fully. It takes Mark a few moments to actually look up at him, as he's gripped by emotion. 

"But, Mark. This doesn't mean I care any less about you. I've got you back, same as always. I'm here for you. That won't change. You still mean a lot to me. You always will." 

"I know," Mark says and glances down at his necklace. Donghyuck follows his gaze, feeling his heart clench in his chest. Yes. Mark will always have a part of Donghyuck left with him, but not just that necklace. Even if (or rather, when) he stops wearing it, that portion of Donghyuck will linger. 

He doesn't voice the sentiment, but he thinks Mark understands. At the very least, the ghost of a wistful smile dances on his lips. 

There's no buses leaving for Seoul for a few hours, so they trek the mountain together, exploring its picturesque, multicoloured forests. Donghyuck already knows most of the best spots, and he guides Mark to some. Their hands stay locked, fingers firmly laced together, perhaps because they know it's the last time, at least for a long while, that they'll be able to do it, and it's hard to leave the past behind so readily. They'll begin the journey together — and they'll continue it on their own, whatever that means. 

In the late afternoon, just as they're nearing the bus station at the foot of the mountain, Mark slows down, then stops altogether. 

Donghyuck looks at him to discover he's blushing slightly, embarrassed. "You know, Hyuck, since I'm here anyway, I was thinking of staying for a few days. Do what you did. Maybe it'll help," Mark says, gives him a sorry half-smile. 

"Of course," Donghyuck says, and finally releases Mark's large, warm, clammy hand. "On your own?" 

"Yeah. On my own." 

"Okay," Donghyuck agrees. His voice is mellow. "You'll be okay?" 

"I'll be okay," Mark says, and he sounds sure. He needs this time, and Donghyuck understands how important it is he gets it. 

"You should go to the temple, if you want. It... helps clear the mind." 

After a momentary hesitation, they hug, tightly, Donghyuck burying his face in Mark's shoulder. Just like everything else, it seems they fit together perfectly, like they were meant to embrace. Donghyuck hugs him like he might never get to experience it again, like the imprint of a memory, just as the last leaf hangs to the tree with all its might until the wind overpowers it. 

"Stay safe," is the last thing he says to Mark before the bus starts and he's left behind, smaller and smaller still. He keeps leaving Mark behind — when he runs to shows and interviews and fan meetings, when he cowers in the face of his changed feelings, when he disappears into the night without news. 

This time, however, although the pain is still there, there's space for forgiveness too. And gratitude — for everything that's been, all the memories, and for these last moments too, for how kind, how understanding Mark was right at the end. 

They'll talk about this, later. For now, he'll leave some things unspoken. He'll wait, just like Mark waited for him. 


	10. x.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and then comes the aftermath of it all.

"You're both so silly, hyungs," Donghyuck says as he shrugs his jacket on, ready to head out for a quick lunch break after practice. Yuta and Taeil are teasing each other about... whatever they tease each other about. Donghyuck didn't pay attention; they do this too often, anyway. 

"You don't even know what we were talking about, kid," Yuta says in good nature, and Donghyuck laughs. 

"Does it matter? That's just how you are." Taeil throws him a kind, big brother sort of admonishing look, and Donghyuck puts on his most innocent expression. He looks at the others, scattered around the room in groups of two, noticing their chests still rising and falling more heavily after the effort, talking amongst themselves, busying themselves with their phones, leaning their heads back against the wall and taking a moment to rest, and he says warmly "All of you."

It's his way to say that he appreciates having them around. As a few lazy smiles are shot towards him, he knows they understand. Then he takes his bag and grins at no one in particular, tired but energised after spending time with everyone, feeling like they're itching ever closer to the perfect dance routine. "Be back soon!" 

"Be careful out there, Hyuck!" Taeyong calls out after him. 

Donghyuck goes laughing, just like he comes to them. His second family.

As the months pass, Donghyuck recovers some sort of normality. Lives his life on his own, except for when he's with the rest of the boys. After six years of synchronising his pace to another's, it takes adjusting to, but he gets there. 

His flat is the same, just a bit more spacious, more quiet. His bed is just as comfortable, but it's always cold now, and Donghyuck sometimes struggles to warm his feet, despite the heat outside. The clock still ticks, only at times it sounds louder than usual, likely thanks to the lack of other sounds, and Donghyuck has to play some music to take his mind off it and relax. When he comes home, there's no food waiting for him, but he takes that in stride and pushes himself to learn a few new recipes. There's moments when it feels more like a place to rest rather than a home, but he makes do even with that.

Life goes on, and sometimes it hurts more than other times - when it's late at night and his day has been a mess and he just wishes he could be held and told things would get better, until he believes it for himself; when he remembers all the good times and he regrets it, wonders if he wasn't too rash, and it's hard to keep doing anything; when the silence gets too burdensome, and he thinks about adopting a dog, a cat, or virtually any animal to keep him company, even considers moving back in with his fellow members; when he stares at his phone and wants to check in on him, but nerves get in the way, and he just ends up hugging a pillow to his chest, cheeks wet by the time he falls into a dreamless sleep.

But he's okay. It's all new, and there's still some level of uncertainty about it all, but he has the guys, he has the fans, and, if he's honest with himself, he has the knowledge that he did the best he knew how to. He did what felt right, for them both, even if it hurt. 

He's okay. Maybe he's even happy. A different type of happy, but happy nevertheless. 

"Hyuck?" he hears from the table behind him, as he eats his lunch in a small, rarely full restaurant. 

His heart speeds up instantly, breath catching in his throat, and it takes a moment before he can make himself look. It's been so long since he's heard that voice, its delicate way of saying his name, like the mild caress of the morning sun. He has no time to prepare, and he's afraid he'll lose him if he doesn't act quickly, so he turns around. 

His hair is a dark shade of blue now, and Donghyuck's never been more in awe of a colour in his life. But it's still him: Mark, with his large, expressive eyes; Mark, with his beautiful rosy cheeks; Mark, with those properly adorable ears, dressed comfortably but smartly, the way a designer should, his sketchbook open in front of him, next to that ridiculously sweet tea he orders, and a bowl of his favourite soba noodles. 

God, and it all comes like a gust of wind, almost throwing Donghyuck off balance. It's like he's seeing him for the first time, like they're on Yeongdong bridge again, only a different awkwardness floats in the air, different background noise accompanies them, different feelings are at play. 

"Mark," he says, and he can't help the tenderness in his tone. He smiles, because he can't help that either. 

He feels so strangled with the saddest happiness he's ever felt, that he might ever feel, and all he can do is smile. Not a fully-fledged smile; it's mostly his eyes that are smiling, his gaze softening of its own accord. Bittersweet, is that what he should call what he feels? But it's not that. He's happy and sad at the same time, but how could it ever be bitter, when this is Mark? Longing, relief, all bundled up into one. There's no regret, he finds. Now that they're face to face, not one negative feeling surfaces. He's no longer sure even the sadness is bad. It's just... sad. An emotion he’s learnt to appreciate, in its own way. 

But he's missed him, more than he might care to admit, more than he _should_ admit. He misses him right now. He's right there, but Donghyuck doesn't even know if he can reach him. Worse yet, he doesn't know of if he's allowed to, not now, after everything that's happened. 

But... is that... his necklace? The bold sapphire hangs at Mark's neck, fitting him better than before, with his equally blue hair. He... still wears it? 

Donghyuck almost asks, but it's then that Mark (Mark, Donghyuck's rock, his starlight, the person he trusts with his entire heart and soul, Donghyuck's Mark, that very Mark) smiles too, slightly restrained but so, so sweet, and says, "Hyuck," not a question this time, sounding like home and everything Donghyuck's ever known, the simplest, purest happiness, the gentlest warmth, and Donghyuck finally feels it's not just things that are okay. 

They're okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and here we are... thank you to everyone who made it to the end!! writing this was actually very special to me, so I hope you liked it too ^·^
> 
> I find we've demonised the concept of falling out of love - replacing it with feelings of anger and frustration and even the need for revenge, the image of a shattered marriage and the lawsuits that follow, when in truth, falling out of love happens to so many, for various reasons, at various times. it is merely about how one chooses to go about it. as for donghyuck and mark, they held on to the gratitude for what once was, the way they'd grown and become better persons alongside and because of one another, the precious memories and all the care, the affection. 
> 
> the end was left open enough for everyone to assume whatever you might prefer - whether they remained friends, or whether the break was exactly what they needed and they eventually found their way back to each other. that's where the title also comes in: and so love is... what? lost, rekindled, forever, a mystery... it could be any number of things. that's for you to consider! perhaps you've guessed what my stand on it is, but the choice is entirely yours ^·^ thank you again! ♡
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/newnctheroes)


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